


In the Interest of Fair Trade

by salamandererg



Category: Les Misérables - All Media Types
Genre: Crack, Honestly just crack, M/M, bad language
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-09-13
Updated: 2017-09-13
Packaged: 2018-12-27 08:47:23
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,054
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12077655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/salamandererg/pseuds/salamandererg
Summary: When people ask Grantaire to get something for him, he always asks 'What'll you give me?', because he's a little shit.  Usually people offer a drink, or stare him into giving it to them, or, if you're Enjolras, accidentally offer your virginity.





	In the Interest of Fair Trade

“And, what'll you give me for that?” Grantaire asked the couple in front of him, twirling a pencil in his hand.

Cosette stuck the tip of her tongue out slightly as she thought, “Um...oh!”

She giggled and gave a light kiss to the corner of Grantaire's mouth. Grantaire turned toward Marius with an expectant look.

“But, Cosette just—” He protested. “Why do I need to?”

“It's for both of you,” Grantaire said in a tone of voice that suggested he was being reasonable.

Marius blushed, but leaned forward and pressed his own kiss to Grantaire's mouth.

“Thank you, lovebirds,” And he wrote the address of the best French cuisine restaurant on a scrap piece of paper. “But tell them it came from Bahorel, so you get a discount. If you tell them I sent you, you'll get kicked out.”

-

“What'll you give me for it?”

“How about I give you a pain-free evening, hm? How's that?” Eponine said, making a move to snatch her phone out of Grantaire's hand with a scowl.

He held it just outside her reach, “Nope, offer me something.”

“Babysit Gavroche this weekend?”

“Tempting, but pass.”

Eponine rolled her eyes, “Hook you up with Montparnasse?”

Grantaire glared at her flatly and didn’t respond. 

She smirked, “He’s dyed his hair blond this week if that influences your decision at all.”

“It doesn’t.”

Eponine looked thoughtful for a moment, before sighing, “I’ll let you pick my Halloween costume this year.”

“Deal,” He tossed the phone to her, “I’m leaning towards children’s cartoons, do you know who Sofia the First is? Or Doc McStuffins? How do you feel about teenage ninjas who also happen to be turtles?”

-

Courfeyrac hopped nervously in the doorway, “Okay, I got one cough drop, a gum wrapper, and a Canadian nickel.” He held the contents of his pocket over to Grantaire, who didn't take it.

Grantaire leaned against the doorway of his apartment and crossed his arms, “Seriously?”

“Dude, it's 3 o'clock in the morning—this is all I have.”

“I'll take an IOU.”

Courfeyrac groaned and paced back and forth, “I hate you. I hate you, I hate you, I hate you.”

“IOU or GTFO.”

“Fine! I owe you, but only because I’m desperate,” Courfeyrac relented, snatching the flash drive out of Grantaire's hand and running down the hallway, “Don't ask me for something weird, I'm not giving you a pair of Enjolras' underwear!” Courfeyrac yelled.

-

“What'll you give me for it?” Grantaire smirked and swung the scrunchy around his finger.

Jehan looked at him at a loss for second before saying 'Oh' and walking away.

He came back an hour later and handed over a piece of stationary covered in writing and doodles with a blush.

“Here,” Jehan said softly, not quite looking Grantaire in the eyes.

Grantaire took the piece of paper, trading it for the scrunchy with a smile.

Later in the evening as Jehan was getting ready to leave, Grantaire gave him a big hug, almost lifting the smaller man off the floor.

“Thank you,” He whispered.

Jehan was so flustered he couldn't respond.

-

“What'll you give me for it?”

Combeferre stared at him.

Grantaire shook his head, “It's not going to happen again, Combeferre, that was a one-time, freak accident. What are you going to give me for it?” Grantaire repeated.

Combeferre kept staring.

“How long are you going to keep this up?” Grantaire asked, checking his watch showily, “'Cause I can do this all day.”

Combeferre cocked his eyebrow and folded his arms. All the while staring directly at Grantaire.

This continued for five minutes before Grantaire broke down.

“Fine, goddamn it, just don't tell anyone.”

He tossed Combeferre's pen to him harshly, hitting the other man in the chest.

“Thank you,” Combeferre said smugly and began writing. Grantaire scoffed and rolled his eyes, going back to his sketchbook.

“Enjolras likes the bird tattoo on your shoulder the most,” Combeferre said flippantly after a few seconds of silence.

“I—what?”

Combeferre didn't look up, “You heard me.”

“'The most'? Wait, does that mean he likes my other tattoos too? Which ones does he like?”

Combeferre shrugged, “Depends. What'll you give me for that information?”

-

“The chance to settle our drinking contest for good,” Joly offered.

Grantaire scoffed, “That's what you need the money for, asshole.”

Joly gave a too-loud groan of frustration and drummed his hands on the table in thought. “I'll make you brownies,” He offered.

“I don't like brownies.”

“You liar!”

“Who's the liar? You say you'll make brownies, you can barely use the right end of a fork!”

“Shut up, I'll get Jehan to make them.”

“Don’t make Jehan do your dirty work.” Grantaire smiled nastily, “You can always take an IOU.”

“Hell no,” Joly said. “I'm not trying to kill myself for a shot, I heard what you made Courfeyrac do,” Joly side-eyed him warily before snapping his fingers. “Oh, I got it, I’ll tell you Bossuet’s hiding spot for his earphones.”

“Deal.”  


-

“A lock of my golden hair,” Bossuet dead panned. “A love song? My firstborn?”

“Sure,” Grantaire agreed goodnaturedly.

“Sweet, Joly and I will get right on that. Give me my damn earphones.”

“Not so fast, theoretical firstborns are great and all, but I need something right now.”

“I’ll tell you where Joly hides the good liquor.”

“Deal.”

-

“No! No, damn it, not you!” Feuilly swore when he caught sight of who was handing him his keys, “I didn't mean for you get them. I didn't even think you had heard me.”

“Too bad. You know what I want.”

“I'm not giving you my hot chocolate recipe,” Feuilly said stubbornly.

“Have fun driving your car with no keys then,” Grantaire made a move to pocket them.

“Ugh, dick. Fine, but I'm getting Marius to translate it into German and scramble it. Then I’m going to bury it in a field and give you a map drawn by a four year-old to find it. But I’m going to lay booby-traps and…”

-

Grantaire watched Bahorel walk back to him with wide eyes.

“I didn't think you'd actually do it,” He said, stunned.

Bahorel shrugged and wiped his mouth, leaning against the bar, “I do what I say I'll do. When do I get my free tattoo?”

“I have an opening next month.”

“Cool,” Bahorel looked back to Enjolras and gave him a cheerful wave from across the room, “No hard feelings, Enjolras! It was for a good cause!”

Enjolras, red-faced and buckling under the weight of Courfeyrac leaning on him as he laughed, just glared.

Bahorel turned back to Grantaire, unconcerned, “FYI, man, he has no kissing skills whatsoever, but his ass is pure gold. I could bounce a quarter off that ass, I would commission Jehan for a poem about that ass, I'm tempted to go back over just to touch it again. Hey! Can I get two free tattoos if I do it again?”

Grantaire stared at him for a second and then shrugged.

\--

“Leave him alone,” Combeferre droned, not quite paying attention to Courfeyrac and Enjolras' conversation, just peripherally aware that Courfeyrac was being annoying.

“I'm just curious—”

“You're nosy.”

“I'm concerned about Enjolras' personal happiness.”

“You're nosy and disrespectful,” Combeferre shot back, successfully deterring Courfeyrac.

Enjolras gladly accepted the distraction and tuned his friends out. Bossuet, however, was not willing to let it go.

“No one? Not even really awkward, awful fumblings in high school?”

Enjolras sighed and gave Bossuet a look. The other held up his hands and backed away.

“Nosy and disrespectful, I know. But still deeply curious,” He smiled. “Are you asexual? Aromantic? I know you're not a romantic, but,” He left off with a chuckle to himself.

Enjolras sighed, “No, I'm not, I'm just...busy.”

“Are you saving yourself?” Bossuet wondered out loud, “Were you thinking about auctioning off your virginity and donating the proceeds to Amnesty International?”

Enjolras gave a pause, tilting his head as if he was thinking; Combeferre broke off mid-sentence with Courfeyrac to say,

“Enjolras, no.”

“It would be a very effective way to catch people's attention.”

“No.”

Enjolras waved his hand, “I'm not actually considering doing it...for real. Just as a promotional tool.”

Combeferre fixed him with a look before turning back to Courfeyrac. Enjolras resumed his thinking face and began looking around for his notebook.

“No, Enjolras,” Combeferre said again.

“Combeferre, mind your own business,” Bossuet said with a cheeky smile, “He'd be losing it for a good cause.”

“Where is my...?” Enjolras craned his neck over the back of the couch to look in the kitchen area. Grantaire and Joly were talking at the table, Enjolras' notebook between them.

“Could one of you hand me my notebook?” He called.

Grantaire immediately looked over and smiled, scooping up the notebook, “Sure, but what'll you give me for it?”

Enjolras snorted, “My virginity, since it seems to be a prevalent topic today,” He said sarcastically for Bossuet's benefit. He seemed unaware of the sudden silence around him.

“Seriously?” Grantaire asked.

“I, just,” Enjolras blushed and put out his hand impatiently, “Grantaire, just hand me my notebook.”

“Oh, uh, okay.”

Bossuet rolled his eyes, “Oh, of course Enjolras doesn't have to give him anything.”

“Shut up,” Grantaire hissed to his friend, handing over the notebook.

“Thank you,” Enjolras said, flipping to a blank page and beginning to write.

“Okay, what? No!” Courfeyrac yelled, startling everyone. “Enjolras does not get to be the exception, especially after my IOU! I have done things for you, Grantaire, awful things!”

Combeferre looked very disturbed, “What did he make you do?”

“I don't want to talk about it!” Courfeyrac turned to Enjolras, “Enjolras, give him something. I don’t care, I’m not gonna judge you if you want to sleep with Grantaire for a notebook, but you have to give him something!”

Enjolras very pointedly did not look up from his notebook in an attempt to hide his face, “I'm not, I was just—I said thank you.”

“You have to,” Courfeyrac looked crazed, “He makes everyone else give him things. He's giving you special treatment because he likes—”

“Cinnamon rolls!” Grantaire finished Courfeyrac's sentence loudly to drown out Courfeyrac’s next word, Joly and Bossuet had the same idea.

“Beer!”

“Blondes!”

Grantaire shot both of them an incredulous look, they winced in apology and mimed zipping their lips.

Courfeyrac continued, “It just,” His whole face suddenly lit up, “It wouldn't be fair, Enjolras. It just wouldn't be fair, it's an injustice and totally not fair.”

This seemed to be the magic word and Enjolras bit his lip. He looked up at Grantaire.

“Is this true? Do you make everyone give you something if you give them something?”

Grantaire sighed, “Yes, but it's just a stupid thing I do, to be a shit once in a while.”

“I guess if everyone else has to pay you, Grantaire, it's not fair for me not to,” Enjolras sighed. “What do you want?”

“That's not how it works,” Courfeyrac said, fighting off the hand Combeferre was trying to slap over his mouth, “You have to offer him something or he'll give you an IOU and the IOU will be awful!”

Enjolras rolled his eyes, “Well, I suppose I already offered my virginity...” He turned to Grantaire, “Do you accept that as payment?”

Grantaire gaped, “Uh.”

“Enjolras, no, that's not—” Combeferre started.

Enjolras shook his head quickly and shot Combeferre a look, “It's in the interest of fairness, so I can't—”

“That's not a good reason—”

“It would be fair—” 

Combeferre continued to protest, “Then find something else to—”

“I said, it would be fair,” Enjolras reiterated loudly, staring at Combeferre with wide eyes and a deeply blushing face.

Combeferre seemed to get it at that moment, ceasing all arguments, “Oh,” He said quietly before clearing his throat, “Yes, I guess it would be fair.”

“Yes, it would,” Enjolras agreed.

“Carry on.”

“Thank you,” Enjolras nodded, “Grantaire, do you accept?”

“Listen, it's really not a big deal—”

“Do you want to have sex with me or not?” Enjolras snapped.

“Yes. What? Is this a trick question? Yes.”

“Okay, good, it’s settled.”

“For a notebook? Really?” Bossuet asked loudly, wincing as Grantaire punched his shoulder. He rubbed it gingerly, “I’m just saying random strangers on the internet probably would’ve shelled out a lot more.”

\--

End


End file.
